


shelter from the poison rain

by m_rosenkov



Category: One Piece
Genre: Aromantic Asexual Monkey D. Luffy, Aromantic Trafalgar Law, Complicated Relationships, Literally the warmest thing I have ever written, Other, Polyfidelity, all comfort, all fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 06:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_rosenkov/pseuds/m_rosenkov
Summary: Loving him has always been a lonely endeavour.luffy, law, monet. an (un)love story on a balmy summer night.





	shelter from the poison rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trell (qunlat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qunlat/gifts).



> for trell, who came up with this au, where monet joins laws crew, and the amazing idea of lawlu aromantic soulmate hell (what a title, seriously recommend checking out their fics); AND who is just a wonderful friend and inspiring, talented person ❤

The fire is burning to embers, illuminated by moonlight, when Luffy sings.

At first, Monet thinks she has imagined it. Surely a hallucinated echo of her nightmares, as she’s jerks awake, back stiff against one of the towering palms lining the bay. Her sister’s died for the thirteenth time. Monet can see her blood on her wings, cast by silver, the harsh curve of light catching each drip. She forgets to breathe. Her lungs burn; like boiling water, and she can’t breathe, awake now, yet her sister dies—again and again. And again. The endless ocean disappearing into the starry horizon, the mellow call of a gull in the distance, and she can’t _breathe._

That’s when it starts. So unlike him, much too soft, too gentle, like the words are fragile glass on his lips, ready to shatter with the rolling waves. Dressrosa falls away in favour of the ebbing tide, the fine golden sand beneath her claws, the rustles of leaves with a warm wind. And—his voice.

_“Just get me off of this ocean,_

_“I wanna move on the True Sea…”_

Nightmares turn to shade, disappearing into the night.

She can see him beyond the tangling bodies of sleeping Heart and Strawhat crewmates, firelight casting dark shadows across his form. His bare feet kick lazy circles in the inky ocean; that straw hat rests in the dip of his shoulder blades, hair a knotted mess from the salty wind. And Law is there with him, posture lax, head bent up towards the sky. Two bodies pressed together in the night, so far removed from them, from her, from everything.

Magnetic, surely, and without thinking, Monet stands, gingerly stepping over the body of Strawhat’s swordsman. Drawn forward towards them. The heat of the burning coals touches her bare skin, and she moves around the flames, not far from the couple now, watching the ripples of Luffy’s kicks disappear to nothing.

_“…Where there’s no above or no below,_

_“Just you, just you beside me_.” He pauses, and she can hear him laugh a little; sheepish, almost—a word she’d never attribute to _him_. “Oi, Torao?” Law does not answer, but he must give some indication he’s listening, for Strawhat continues: “Do you know this one?”

Monet does. And she doesn’t mean to, can’t explain why she does it—all she knows is that she is caught, breath all tangled in her throat, and she breathes “I do,” before she can think.

They both turn. Strawhat is not surprised by her presence, of course, but Law’s eyes widen, frame stiffening in a way she could not possibly miss.

“I—” Her mouth is inexplicably dry. “I know it. _The True Sea_. It—I—”

A sea-shanty as old as time. Monet remembers her mother singing it before her death, threading Sugar’s hair with wilted roses, a winter so cold she wondered if they would even survive.

Now, engulfed by the warmth of a dying fire, drawn by the softness of Strawhat’s eyes, it’s hard to remember that harsh winter at all—any cold at all. Something she—the snow harpy—never thought was possible, never thought she _could_.

“Oh. I forgot the name,” Luffy says. Then, he looks at her, in much the same way she imagines he always looks at Law—so clearly, so open, so intensely—spreading his hand outward in the darkness. “Come sit with us.”

Monet cannot find it in herself to argue. Monet cannot find it in herself to _think._

Luffy blinks, _“Just take me over the last horizon,”_ and turns back to the sea without answer. _“Where the lights never been…”_

 _“But my starry-eyed compass keeps a secret,_ ” she sings with him, and it’s not her voice—not really—but something deeper inside of her, something pulling beneath her breastbone, something unbearably _strong_. Her claws curl, heart pounding, eyes stinging beneath their lids. _“No starry-eyed theory could contain_ …”

Luffy pauses, but she does not stop, the words spilling out of her now, the ghost of her mother’s touch on her arm. _“And the promise she’ll keep until the True Sea gathers us up,_

_“In a tidal wave.”_

Her breath flutters out of her, a last choke. There’s nothing but the sound of a gentle tide, Luffy’s splashing, the soft rustle of palm leaves.

Then:

“Monet-ya.”

Law’s staring at her. Like she is something unbelievable. She can’t decide if it’s a good thing or not; if he wants her there, or if she should just turn and leave. But she wants to fool herself. To allow that small hope, that maybe, just this once, she is something unbelievable.

Loving him has always been a lonely endeavour.

_Just turn and leave._

Monet hesitates, and Law says, “Sit with us.”

“I—” She breathes. “Yes.”

Monet closes the space between them without thought, settling at Law’s side like she belongs there, even though she does not, she could _never_. The space between them is small, and she turns slightly to look at him.

His eyes are very bright. Pools of gold. “How do you know that song?”

“My mother,” she answers. This is something they don’t speak about. “It was Sugar’s favourite.”

Something they do _not_ speak about.

She can remember being twenty-eight with him again, his warmth pressing into her, snow sweeping through the air around them. He was twenty-six, and that was the first time. He kissed her, fervently, breathed her name, and she blushed underneath his touch.

_Monet._

There had been a promise in the air, then. A trust that they would see the end together, however it shall arrive. No bravery or dreams or goals or love; just the two of them, hoping tomorrow came with sun and endless silence, one they don’t touch.

There’s a new kind of silence around them now. Luffy’s leaning into his side, kicking the water, humming under his breath, and Law says, “Right.” Then: _“Right_ ,” like the word is being pulled from his throat.

He’s powerful when he kisses her, then. Deep and searching, and he pushes into her, everything falling away. She parts his lips with her own, and his hand presses into the small of her back, some kind of fire stirring within him, one that warms her, tingling the tips of her feathers.

“ _I’ll follow you overboard,”_ Luffy sings, the slapping of his feet on water. _“In the collapsing waves.”_

Law stills for a moment, their foreheads bumping together, before he pulls away. He turns to Strawhat. “You’re not very good at singing, Mugiwara-ya.”

Her heart skips at the sound of his voice.

Luffy’s laughing. “ _Shishishi_. Traffy!” He throws himself on Law, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and face, muffling the surgeon’s pathetic protests. Luffy’s looking at Monet when he says, “I like it when you do that. You look happy.”

“Me?” she asks, mouth suddenly dry again. But Law’s colouring underneath Luffy’s hold, visible even in the dark, and she understands, unable to look away from him, breathing, “ _Oh._ Me too.”

Luffy smiles. Wide. Then, he reaches out, no warning, running his fingers through her hair, touch so incredibly soft, so unlike the idea of him, of everything she knows.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quite simply.

She blinks. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Law’s staring at her again. With that look. Like Monet could be—like she is—

Like she is unbelievable.

It takes a moment, before she allows the gravity to take hold of her. Behind, there’s the dying fire, the swaying of leaves in the wind, moonlight that pours effortlessly across the sand.

And. He sings.

“ _It makes the ocean, seem like a drop in the ocean.”_

Monet closes her eyes. Luffy’s fingers drag through her hair, Law’s touch at her side, the love thick in her mouth. The warmth. She breathes out slowly, and together, they wait for the sun.

_“She makes the ocean, seem like a drop in the ocean.”_

**Author's Note:**

> ah this is very bad, gosh! my writing has been Very average of late (hence no updates). regardless, posting this because i cannot keep indulging my insecurities; thank you to whoever stuck through with reading, and SORRY about the TOTAL fluff (you were warned)  
> lyrics featured from [_The True Sea_ by Paul Dempsey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9WDI_TbJg4), which is a truly amazing song (links to youtube).


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